


dreaming myself into the past

by Merit



Category: Greenhollow Duology - Emily Tesh
Genre: M/M, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28088787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merit/pseuds/Merit
Summary: Midwinter found them in the Scottish highlands, on a fruitless hunt for a selkie.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	dreaming myself into the past

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophiegaladheon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiegaladheon/gifts).



Midwinter found them in the Scottish highlands, on a fruitless hunt for a siren, sleet and wind invading their thick woollens. At a one room alehouse, low ceilings, smoke from long pipes curling lazily around the thick beams, the barkeep had directed them further up the hill to their accommodation. Or so Henry assumed, he had blinked owlishly at the thick accent, trying to keep the incomprehension from showing too obviously on his face. But after several long passages, with Henry trying not to yawn, Tobias handed over several coins and the barkeep handed over a small sack.

With one long glance through a tiny window, Tobias declared they’d better leave sooner, rather than later. Tobias gave the barkeep a solemn nod of farewell, which was respectfully returned. The barkeep winked at Henry as he left, and when the door closed behind them, he heard laughter rise up from the wooden floors. He resigned himself to featuring as the font of numerous jokes in this backwater.

Tobias had taken the lead, tall leather boots frosted white, the snow crunching under his feet. Henry attempted to follow Tobias’ path, but it was easily half his pace again, and he bit back a cry when the deep snow penetrated the top of his boots. He felt Tobias stiffen and half turn. But Henry grunted and continued on, waving his hand fruitlessly at the sea of white that surrounded them.

The wind was slightly calmer behind Tobias, but by the time that they had gotten to the lonely cottage, the alehouse’s small windows twinkling dimly through the snow, Henry was frozen and shivering. He shut the door behind them with welcome relief, though the cottage was only slightly warmer than the outside. But it didn’t have that blasted wind, he thought, rubbing his sodden mittens together. 

He eyed the empty fireplace with resignation but Tobias was already kneeling in front of it, carefully laying out the small twigs and bigger sticks, and soon there was a tiny fire crackling, filling the room with heat. Henry pulled off his mittens in relief, taking his gloves with them - what great use they had been! Tossing them aside, he squatted down, closing his eyes, and wincing slightly as feeling started to return to his pink fingertips. After several quiet moments of absorption, he blinked, and turned around.

Tobias had laid out the sack on the table, his shoulders hunched under the low ceilings, and was rifling through the contents. He pulled out a loaf of brown bread, some hard cheese, and a few wizened apples. Behind him there was a bed. One bed.

Henry cleared his throat. Tobias looked up.

“There’s only one bed,” Henry said, thinking of the wink the barkeep had given him.

“Aye,” Tobias said, looking over his shoulder at the bed thoughtfully. “Not many visitors out here. This used to be a shepherd’s winter cottage. He’d drive the sheep higher in the summer and settle here in the winter.”

“What happened to the shepherd?” Henry shrugged off his coat and unwrapped his neck from the monster of a scarf his mother had spent five years half-heartedly knitting before gifting the results to him. He placed the coat and scarf on the back of a chair. Coat racks seemed entirely absent from the spare cottage.

“Things change,” Tobias said, shrugging, the weight of his centuries on his shoulders. “Landlords change. The old one wanted to turn this into a hunting lodge. But the land wasn’t made for hunting and the lords of London said no.”

“And you got all of this from that barkeep?” Henry asked, stiff fingers on the buttons of his waistcoat, Tobias’ dark eyes on him.

“I got some of that from memories,” Tobias admitted. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, to the great forest that once covered England and must have swept up towards Scotland, before both lands had been an inkling in men’s minds. Henry felt a whisper around his own mind, vanishing if he tried to think too deeply about it. He tried not to wince at the pang of regret that twinged his heart.

“But mostly the barkeep,” he ventured, shaking his head of cobwebs, of forests long gone.

“Very useful man,” Tobias said, dryly. He reached over, large hand blocking out the light of the fire for one moment, resting on Henry’s shoulder for a brief second before he slid down to his chest. Hand over hand, Tobias’ pulse a steady beady that ricocheted in Henry’s ears. Tobias made to move away and Henry placed his other hand over Tobias’ hand, shivering as the soft, cool flesh of his palm met Tobias’ fight toughened knuckles.

“Stay,” he breathed, watching Tobias through half shuttered eyelashes. He ran his thumb down Tobias’ hand in a slow sweep, pulling him closer, stepping in between the gap so their hips brushed against each other. 

Tobias shifted out of his grasp, light footed despite his bulk and leaned back against the old table, the wood creaking with protest. Henry felt a stab of coldness, unrelated to the wind that rattled the winds, spike at his heart.

“You’re cold,” Tobias said, “Don’t think you should be wearing all those damp things. You’ll catch a chill,” said with half a smile crossing his broad face, the hint of old larkish ways.

Henry blinked, slow and heavy. His mind hurried to catch up with the implications of Tobias’ words. “Oh,” he said, rocking back on the heels of his leather boots. “Oh!”

Tobias reached for his scarf, a sensible dark brown purchased from a shop in London, and placed the sodden mess on the table, where it soon started to drip on the floor. Tobias reached out, his breath warm on Henry’s cheeks as he worked nimbly on Henry’s waistcoat buttons. He neatly hung it behind a chair while Henry suffered a small groan of frustration.

But Tobias soon returned, divesting him of his shirt and vest, under linens and trousers, til Henry stood, pink and shivering slightly, under Tobias’ hot gaze. The curved line of his cock darted out between the curly hair at his groin. Tobias sank to his knees, eyes shut, as he placed warm hands on Henry’s hips, cradling him. With a sigh that almost sounded reverent, Tobias parted his lips and took Henry in his mouth.

His mouth was hot, sharper than the fire licking heat up the bare skin of his back, and his tongue an insistent pressure that made Henry’s knees buckle.

“I suppose the one bed won’t be an issue,” Henry breathed, running his fingers through Tobias’ hair, nails dragging along Tobias’ scalp, as Tobias took him deeper into his mouth.

He woke before dawn, grey tendrils of light filtering through the tiny window, snow still falling slowly outside. He was deliciously warm, Tobias a firebank behind him, his chest rumbling in his sleep, the bristles on his chin brushing against Henry’s head. Caught between sleep and wakefulness, he shimmied back, tucking his head under Tobias’s chin even more closely and shut his eyes.

When he woke again, Tobias was watching him, with a faraway look in his solemn eyes.

“G’morning,” Henry said, through a yawn. He stretched carefully, his muscles aching from the long walk in the snow yesterday, his shoulder popping.

“Morning,” Tobias murmured.

Henry cast a half hearted look at the window, noting the blinding white and turning his gaze back on Tobias. “Doesn’t look like we’ll be making any headway today.”

“When they don’t want to be found, they won’t be found,” Tobias said, the corners of eyes crinkling up as he smiled at Henry. Henry tried to ignore the way his heart flip flopped in his chest.

“That and the weather is utterly atrocious,” Henry said, tapping three fingers against Tobias’ chest, where his chest hair broke through his linen shirt and the musk of his neck was strongest. “Why my mother thought the Scottish Highlands would be passable at this time of year…” He shook his head.

“Selkies can be tricky creatures if not handled carefully,” Tobias said. “I never saw one in my time,” in answer to Henry’s curious look. “Too far away from the ocean and sailors. Just heard stories from the dryads. They had tall tales to tell.”

“My mother chases anything dangerous,” Henry said with a sigh.

“Sometimes trouble needs chasing,” Tobias said slowly. There was a moment of silence, as Henry wondered desperately what Tobias and his blasted mother had been up to, traversing across England, when he was buried deep below the earth. The question was always at the tip of his tongue, but burned to ash when he wanted to ask - afraid of what Tobias might say.

Then there was a rap at the door. They both stilled and turned to look at the door. Someone, something, rapped again.

“Think it could be the barkeep?” Henry murmured, seeing the knowing old man wink at him again.

“No,” Tobias said, shaking his head and somehow, without displacing Henry, was standing in his shirtsleeves. His knees and thighs jutted out like great tree trunks. Henry glanced down at his knobby knees and tried to not cover them like a maiden aunt.

Tobias walked with surprising grace for a man of his size over to the door, silently padding across the rough hewn wood. He then opened the door slightly, and a hand snapped through, gripping the door frame with a tiny white hand, dark fingernails scoring into the old wood.

The creature pushed at the door again, but Tobias stood firm, the old wood creaking as the two battled over control. Then the creature sagged against the door, hitting it with a thud.

“Is that…” Henry started, peering over Tobias shoulder, “A selkie?”

“I don’t know,” Tobias admitted. They paused at the doorway, the cold wind seeping away the residual heat. 

“Well,” Henry said. “I think you can take it?”

“I’m not an it,” said the creature, in a high piping voice. “My name is Ursula.”

“Her, then,” Henry said. He peered through the crack, and the dark eyed girl screwed up her face and glared at him. “If we let you in will you behave?” He asked in what he thought was his stern voice.

The girl rolled her eyes at him. “I’m always well behaved,” she said chillily, and before Henry could second guess the offer, she had scurried in and settled in front of the dying fire. She glared at it. “Don’t you know how to keep a fire lit?”

“Of course,” Henry said, “But we just woke up and - ”

“It is almost noon,” the girl commented, sticking several logs onto the fire again. 

“I walked a long way yesterday!” Henry protested, stepping closer to the girl. She stared deeply into the fire, fiercely ignoring him. Henry sighed heavily. He hadn’t understood teen girls when he had been her age and he feared age was making the process even harder.

“Do you want some bread and cheese?” Tobias asked.

There was a delicate pause before Ursula murmured her agreement. She ate fast, licking the crumbs off her fingers with little grace. Closer up, Henry noted that her nails weren’t entirely black, but filthy and covered in ink. The girl’s long inky hair hung like a shroud around her shoulders and her head moved around the room like an inquisitive bird.

“How did you even find us?” Henry asked softly, half to himself, but the girl tensed.

“Word spreads fast here,” she whispered. “Old Thom told me you might be able to help me.”

“Who’s that?”

The girl gave him an imperious stare.

“The man at the inn,” Tobias said gently and Henry coloured.

“Oh yes. Him,” he said. Damn that man and his knowing wink! Damn Old Thom.

“He knows everything and everyone,” Ursula said with a gracious air. 

“Does he,” Tobias said. He peered at the girl critically. “Does he know about you? Are you the selkie?”

“No!” The girl said, her lower lip quivering. “That was… that was my mother and she’s returned to her sisters under the waves.” Ursula turned away from them, but not before Henry saw the glint of firelight on tears in her eyes.

A strange expression crossed Tobias’ face. “Did you try to follow her?”

Ursula’s shoulders hunched forward, her shivering intensifying despite the merry fire. “My da died three years ago,” she said lowly, “And my mother, ma, she said she knew I couldn’t follow her, so she waited til I was grown before leaving.”

Henry surveyed the small girl with growing dismay. “And you were the one who caused the damage to all those boats?”

“Maybe,” Ursula said. “I had to get her attention somehow. Show her that I was ready to go under the waves with her.”

He sighed deeply and sat on one of the chairs. He glanced at the window and noted with dismay that the wind and snow had picked up, snowflakes sticking to the glass. The girl couldn’t leave. Well, she could, but Henry wasn't going to do _that_.

“We’re only passing through,” Henry said and the girl stiffened.

“I’m not here for help,” she spat out. She eyed the door defensively.

“Of course not,” Henry said, bemused.

“I am offering my assistance,” she said, standing up, wrapping her shawl around her thin body. Her dark eyes, like the sea just before a storm hit, flashed at them. She looked at askance at Tobias though, who had hardly said a word since she walked in. “I am a skilled cook, a maid at all work, and I can sense… things.”

“Things,” Henry said, rolling the word over his tongue.

“We travel a lot,” Tobias said. “And it isn’t right for two men to travel with a young girl. People would talk.”

“People have always talked,” Ursula said hotly. “About my ma, about me. They’ll always talk here.”

“But my mother might require a cook,” Henry said, smiling at the girl. “Though she’ll likely cart you across England to sense… things.”

Ursula’s shoulders tensed. “Is she like you?” 

And then like a rumble from the mountains, Tobias started to laugh. Henry gave him a short look before he reluctantly started to laugh too. Ursula didn’t laugh, but she had a small smile on her pale, pinched face.

His mother gave him a long look when he presented Ursula to her. She smiled at the girl and within minutes that managed to hustle her upstairs without Henry being entirely sure how she had managed it.

“I do not run an orphanage,” she murmured as she descended the stairs. She gave Henry a warning look and he smiled merrily at her, while part of him wanted to run for the hills. Not the Scottish hills, he thought, something balmier in England.

“You always said you wanted more help,” Henry said airily, waving a hand around the old London townhouse he had been born in. He noted the stains on the wallpaper and the dust on the window sills. Behind him, Tobias struggled to contain a snort.

“Your help,” she said tersely. “I wanted you to get your nose out of books and finally see what was happening in front of your eyes.”

“And I saw this girl,” he said, “On a mission you sent me on!” He paused looking around the room which was dark, the corners ill lit by the flickering lamps. “You’re hardly here and the girl said she was a maid.”

“A girl her age should be in the school room,” his mother said, smoothing her hands down the front of her skirt.

“Then you can send her to a school,” Henry agreed readily.

“Don’t think you’ve gotten away with this, Henry,” she said. “I expect you to take a role in her upbringing. After your Green Man affair you should have plenty of time.”

“I was the guardian of the woods,” Henry said, “I had duties and responsibilities!”

“Of course,” his mother said. She looked over at Tobias. “And don’t think you have gotten out of this either! I hold you both responsible.”

“Yes,” Tobias said, inclining his head at them both. “I look forward to it.”

His mother shot him a triumphant look and Henry hid his smile, by sharply turning away. He heard a thud from upstairs.

"Sounds like the wash basin," his mother commented. "Hopefully broken, it was terribly hideous!"

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The World by Jennifer Chang.


End file.
